Rachel's Choice
by Unnoticeable Person
Summary: Rachel thinks her latest accessory is getting a little too tight. Slight Trent/Rachel Spoilers for Pale Demon


I do not own the Hollows world or any of its characters. That honor would belong to the great Kim Harrison. This fan fiction was written for enjoyment purposes only.

I fingered the band around my wrist that is my latest, and rather permanent, accessory. I twisted it around and around, surprised that despite the light weight of it, it still manages to weigh heavily on my mind.

My brows furrowed as I thought of who I can thank for this necessary restraint.

Yes, yes, the one and only, Trenton Aloysius Kalamack.

He gave me this as a way to make a choice. A choice that was taken from me years ago that I have always wished I could have had. It's a choice that lets me decide what I want to do, or to be who I want. But even with how appreciative I am for this, I cannot help but wonder why. Trent, of all people, gave me the power to choose my own life. Trent, the power hungry, bio-lord, drug dealing, murdering, son of a bitch who I have been trying to land in jail for the last couple of years. It's completely insane and goes against everything I ever saw or expected from him, but one small, significant, incident happened.

He changed. Or softened somewhat, I amended.

Whether it was out of the blue or simply a gradual shifting that I missed, I have no idea, but the only force that I could think of as to make something as astronomical as this would be Ceri. That woman is a storm to be reckoned with. She could turn the Pope into a Satan Worshipper if she worked hard enough.

I smiled as I thought of the little bundle of joy that is undoubtedly Ceri and Quen's baby. She's already a couple months old and growing fast, while her innocent green eyes observe and learn from Lucy as she takes her first few wobbly steps from her place in Ceri's arms. Trent looked so proud of his elf prodigy you'd think that she just won a marathon.

_Change._

There's that word again. It just kept popping up left and right in my rambling thoughts. Damn that elf and his adorable daughter.

_My goddaughter, _I thought with an alarming jolt. For the love of the Turn, what has my life turned into? My enemy is my friend and lifesaver. My best friend will live the longest of his species has ever lived. My roommate has found some semblance of stability and peace, and I'm, well, I'm just enjoying not getting gunned down every time I walk out the door.

But even as I look around me and feel content, in the back of my mind there's still an uncomfortable jittery feeling filled with anxiety. I know I'm deluding myself, wishing for a life that I can't have anymore, all because of one little quirk of my DNA that can't be ignored.

And that quirk would indicate that I'm a demon. No more room for any more denial or pretty lies. I had it proved and confirmed with my very own eyes. I know it, the demons know it, Trent knows it. Hell, the whole world knows it now.

The thought that I am a demon would have scared the pants off of me a couple months ago, but now, I think it's more of a comfort that I can actually know for certain that I am different from everyone else, and exactly why that is. And again, I have Trent to thank for that. God, I don't think I'll ever get used to actually _thanking _the arrogant elf.

I ceased twirling the band around my wrist and decided I should probably get out of this chair, or else I would start to give myself a head ache that I would much prefer to avoid.

I stretched out my arms and legs, hearing a few pops and cracks in my joints as I did so. While in the process of rolling my shoulders, I glanced at the phone nervously as if it might grow fangs and bite me. But no, that particular concern is more likely to be reserved for my roommate. _Not so much anymore,_ I thought, thinking back to our understanding on our exclusive road trip.

Reaching for the handle, I paused. Do I really want to do this? Would it be worth all the problems and near-death experiences?

Shaking my head, I grabbed the phone firmly in hand and punched in the familiar numbers from memory. It ringed a couple times until a feminine voice picked up and greeted in a cheerful tone, "Mr. Kalamack's office."

I drew in a deep breath, and exhaled. "Hey, Sara Jane. It's Rachel. Is Trent there?"

The woman's tone deflated into a flat, professional one as she answered, "In a moment, Ms. Morgan."

Clearly the woman still didn't harbor any warm feelings toward me from my past dealings with Trent. I tapped the band on my wrist, aware that it's becoming a regular habit, while waiting for Sara Jane to connect me to him.

There was some rustling on the other end until I hear Trent say in that smooth cadence of his, "Rachel?"

"Hey Trent," was all I said, and an awkward silence descended on both ends as either of us failed to say anything more.

The memory of the kiss we both shared came to mind and then vanished when he finally asked, "Is everything okay? Who did you manage to anger this time?"

My hesitation died as the insult took root. And with it came my annoyance. Gripping the phone a little more tightly, I shifted my stance into a more confident one, even though he couldn't see it. "Jeez Trent, I just can't call my favorite irritating elf? I'm not an idiot, you know. I can lay low when my ass is on the line."

"The situations in the past prove otherwise," he noted dryly.

"Hey! I am still alive, so I must have done something right," I pointed out.

"Yes, you have. Choosing your friends carefully."

Ticked, I rubbed my forehead. So much for not getting a head ache. Closing my eyes for a moment, I reined in my control. I sighed. "Look, Trent. As much as I would love to just stand here and fight about my past life decisions with you, I need those magic words you've been holding out on me."

There was a long pause. I tucked a stay hair behind my ear and asked, "Uh, Trent? Still there?"

"Rachel, are you sure? I need you to absolutely positive about it. There's no going back if you do this."

I rolled my eyes. "Yes, Trent, I am very much aware of the situation I'm in. And though this may surprise you, I _have_ put a lot of thought into this. It's my life, and it's my choice how to live it. Your words Trent."

There was another pause, and just when I was about to give him the dozen reasons why I should do this, he said, almost in relief, "Good."

My head tilted to the side and I blurted, "Good?" I was honestly expecting a smug tirade about how his father did right in saving me or maybe be dead against it. Not this….acceptance.

There was a teasing note in his voice as he said, "Yes, Rachel. I've been waiting for this call since a couple months ago. Actually, I'm quite surprised it took this long."

"Oh," was all I managed to say.

"'In vinculis etiam audax' is the words to take it off**."**

_In chains yet still bold (free), _I translated.

"Really? That's it?" I asked, excited.

"Yes, it is fairly simple. It was once used regularly before the war", he added vaguely.

I nodded, and before I said goodbye and hang up the phone, I said, "Trent? Thank you. I mean really, this means a lot to me."

I could just imagine the genuine smile he's wearing as he answers, "Your welcome."

And because I just couldn't help myself I added teasingly, "But you're still a murdering bastard."

I swore I heard a concealed chuckle before he replied with, "And you're still a pain in the ass witch that I have the pleasure to be in company with."

Smiling, I ended with a pleasant, "Goodbye Trent. Tell Ceri and Quen and the little angels I said hi."

The last thing I heard before I hung up was, if I'm not mistaken, a warm parting of, "Bye, Rachel."

My gaze roamed to the more advanced zip strip, still wrapped around my wrist, for now, that is.

I thought of the last couple of years and how hard it's been to stay alive. My chaotic life that spins to places that no one could even imagine with the people who I've met, enemies and friends alike. I think about the last couple months and how empty I've felt, disconnected from the lines and feeling incomplete. I didn't realize the magnitude of how explicitly magic is tied to my very being.

When I got this chain bound to my wrist I was presented with a choice. The first time I chose to hide myself and give up the real me. But now I'm making the choice again, but this time the decision would be me accepting all of whom and what I am. Rachel Mariana Morgan, badass runner who has great friends, more enemies that could hold enough names to fill up Santa's Naughty List, dangerous magic that could make me both powerful and vulnerable, and most of all-

"_**In vinculis etiam audax!"**_

**Free.**

**AN: My friend got me writing again. So I made this because we all know that Rachel's going to take that bracelet off eventually. I wanted to make something that would kind of get a glimpse of her thought process as she embraces who she really is.**

**P.S. My apologies that Al is absent from this. I'm trying to make a little one shot with him in it, but no promises though:)**


End file.
